


Maple Syrup in a Jar

by ControversialShipper



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Crack, Fluff, I forgot to introduce it here, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PP is annoying af, Smut, This is a fic from my wattpad, more characters will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ControversialShipper/pseuds/ControversialShipper
Summary: This is a fic from my wattpad and I forgot to post it on here lolTo sum it up it's basically Canada has a shortage of maple syrup and Justin Trudeau is the only person that can produce.. maple syrup.EDIT: I've deleted my wattpad because no one says shit
Relationships: Andrew Scheer/Justin Trudeau, Emmanuel Macron/Justin Trudeau, François-Philippe Champagne/Justin Trudeau
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. A nice refreshing drink

**Author's Note:**

> asdfghlghjk,kmlo This is where all the chao begins! JT nuts.

Justin Trudeau could still hear from miles away, Andrew Scheer's screaming for maple syrup. The people in Canada are now mourning that there is a lack of that sugary boiled tree blood.. 

For some reason, the maple trees did not want to trickle down the transparent colourless sap, urine poured down through the spouts instead, cold, piss yellow urine. The farmers have been complaining for a month about the situation, "Why are the trees pissing instead of giving us maple syrup?"

"Well, I don't know," Justin Trudeau thought as he sat in his chair of his office.

He then opened a drawer in his desk and got a jar with a cork on. He unscrewed the cork off and placed it gently on his desk. The sound of a fly zipping off and clothes rummaging followed by a 'whack', we all know what's coming next..

The motion of his right hand moving back and forth as the man tilted his head backwards, eyes closed shut, squinting as he panted. It's obvious at this point that the Prime Minister was jacking off in his office. The monstrous image of the man jack off face was soon replaced with an even more traumatizing face: Justin Trudeau busting a nut.

He opened his eyes and rolled them up as if a demon was possessing him, tongue protruding out, Justin was going full ahegao. A burst of a shiny transparent, orange-ish brown liquid came spouting through, filling up the jar below. Justin was lucky that he held the jar right below him or else it would be a very sticky mess. 

A small whip of the familiar sweet maple syrup smell mixed with the stench of basically nut emitted from the brown liquid pouring in the jar. Justin let out a small moan as the level of the liquid rose, seconds from overflowing it. The Prime Minister then let out a sigh of satisfaction and took a moment to stare at the glorious masterpiece that he has produced and then he carefully lifted the glass jar to his mouth and took a few gulps.

Justin let out another sigh of satisfaction with the glass jar about three quarters full. He licked his top lip with his tongue, smearing the syrup that was left there, sheering it out. His face only turning to suspicion and concern when his eyes noted the reflection of the window on the jar. 

Justin Trudeau then turned his head back to the window behind him and in shock, found a very familiar, sour face. It was Andrew Scheer. And he was standing on the edge outside of the second floor window. Andrew quickly managed to somehow slide open the window up, but upon entering, the window slide took upon the course of gravity and smacked Scheer's ass. No, Scheer didn't have his butt cheeks sawed off but it did hurt when you get smacked by a window. 

Heck it tore off a part of his suit pants like that episode of Spongebob where he ripped his pants. The tear of the suit pants was only replaced by Andrew Scheer's Paw Patrol trousers.

"Hey, Andrew.. I knew you were obsessed with me because you've been spamming my name on your Twitter account.. but isn't this a bit too far?" Justin implored Andrew as he quickly screwed the cork back on the jar. Just in time he did because Andrew then launched himself on Justin like a how a tiger would do on its prey, grabbing Justin's wrists with his hands. He didn't care that he knocked over Justin's chair and which had made a large sound, loud enough to alert anyone nearby that something's going on. 

Justin grasped on to his jar for dear life, praying that it won't spill, or even worse, break. The Prime Minister studies his opposition's face, seeing the beads of sweat to the unstable fish blue eyes of the Tory.

"So," Andrew spoke out with some hesitation as he caught his breath, "this is what you've been hiding?" 

"What do you mean?"

"How maple syrup is produced?"


	2. A new contestant! A wild Baguette appears!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I'm posting from wattpad. You'll see me post two or three chapters at the same time here on Ao3 rather than on Wattpad.  
> However, I'll post on Wattpad BEFORE on Ao3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second chapter of the fic and I now realise that I'm kind of parodying the irl events of what I see on the news between Trudeau and Scheer — if not — I don't know what I wrote but I know that what I write is kind of offensive?  
> So, be warned.  
> I mean this doesn't really represent my view on Canadian politics but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The heavy breathing of the slime ball of the opposition leader had quite uneased the Prime Minister a lot.. It had felt like an eternity of Scheer lying on all fours, right on top of Trudeau like as if he (Andrew) wanted this fantasy. Justin knew very well that the man above him was obsessed to the brink about him. 

From his hair, to his voice, to every fucking breathe he takes, even after Justin had gotten re-elected; Justin knew that Andrew Scheer is obsessed with him. Justin could tell by looking at his Twitter page on how many time he chants his name. Justin could tell by the very dead stare in the man's blue eyes, studying the sunken purple eye bags below his eyes and the eyebrow above in resentment which also was detected by the face getting bloodshot red. He also noted the sort of 'brown milk-mustache' on the balloon headed man.

Justin felt disgusted underneath a pathetic man of a Con. He felt the need to throw Scheer off of him, and get his stinky chocolate milk breath away from his precious face! He want to be marinated in the slime ball's breath and have the same situation from twenty years ago, but it was unfortunate to have himself in this ugly position. Trudeau could not move anywhere because first, he was being restrained by the milkman himself: both of his wrists cuffed in Scheer's corresponding hands, slightly rubbing his thumbs sensually on the end of the wrists. Justin only managed to somehow maintain a grasp on his coom jar in his left hand, away from Andrew's yandere pinning and made sure that it would not undergo the pressure that Trudeau was going through.

Second, the man above was virtually pinning him, the man below, in all fours. "Quite the position?" he thought. 

"Can.. — Can you not breathe?" Justin requested in hesitation, trying to gwasp for air as he turned to his side. "Yep, that's chocolate milk," Justin confirmed as he putrid sour smell managed to slightly enter his system.

"Excuse me what? are you asking me to die right after me finding out your secret that you're hiding from all Canadians?!" Andrew karened at Justin, leaving out a few belches, shotgunning towards Justin. All what the poor Liberal could do was turn to his side and gasp for his bweath again and hoped that the remaining air in this room was not yet fully intoxicated by Mr. Scheer's breakfast.

"I said can you not breathe in my face?! You're huffing on me and pinning me like a walrus!" Justin corrected his first response, shifting his jar away from the situation.

"Why should I? I have you where I need you to be," shifting his eyes to the coom jar as he stuck out his tongue a bit, upwardly out of his mouth. 

"NO!" The Prime minister shrieked and with all his might, got up on his knees and pulled himself away from the vile threat that Scheer posed to his precious jar of coom, clutching it to his chest while still on both of his knees. Scheer was then furious and headed towards the Prime Minister (obviously on his knees as well) and exclaimed, "NO, GIMME THAT COOM JAR—!"

Together, both of the politically opposing men were pulling the jar back-and-forth like two bratty children unwilling to share a bar of chocolate. The sight only lasted a few minutes though, such a glorious sight of two grown-ass Canadian politicians having tug of war over a jar of coom. It all ended when one of the drawers of the Prime Minister's desk started shaking vigorously and it had startled both of the men. 

Andrew sighed in unamusement, "What are hiding now, Mr. Trudeau?"

Both of the men had now dropped the glass jar on the dark, hard wooden floor now shattering and the coom now leaking free on the floor the glaze of it being slowly reflected due to the high viscosity of the syrup like coom. 

"EMMANUEL?!" Justin exclaimed at his boyfriend Macron.

"UwU what's thwis?" asked Emmanuel in the most Frenchiest accent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for reading this chapter of this fic.  
> I will love to hear your opinions of this fic so thank you :3


	3. Joined the chat, left the chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS NON-CON ELEMENTS! IF YOU'RE NOT OF AGE, PLEASE DON'T READ!  
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like umm this chapter has like smut and like non-con elements so be warned.  
> I will not be bolding or making the words italic because:  
> 1\. I forgot how to do this on Ao3  
> 2\. Wattpad is easier
> 
> Anyways I may spoil a bit of chapter 4 because it is in the works in Notes on my phone so I'll post 4 once I post in on my Wattpad (@youknowwboi).
> 
> To spoil some unexplained shit that's happening are: wormholes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"I uuhhhhh — oh, uhh — Emmanuel, what are you doing here?" Justin incoherently asked as the French stepped around the room in an energy that should not be explained. 

"I don't know, I was bored of you keeping me shubbed in that drawer so, I got out," Macron said as both the men were at gazing at the lanky man that had spring out of the drawer, such that Andrew was the one to lose balance while he held Justin's precious jar of coom, such that it had fallen and it can't get up.

The jar of the Prime Minister's maple syrup had rolled over to Emmanuel, when he had picked up and stared at the golden-y, brown and orange liquid that contained inside it. He plopped open the jar, tossing the cork from behind and just as when he was about to talk a damn sip of the jar of coom, Andrew had to protest, yelling, "NUUUUUU THAT'S MY COOM JAR," at the French, startling him like he was zapped by lightening. The pathetic tory then bolted up to Macron and tried to snatch the P.M.'s jar from the President's hands but missed! 

The two adult men were then running around the room like toddlers and Justin panicked, reconsidering his life decisions of fapping in his office. Justin only prayed that no one will hear the stampede about of footsteps of the two men's dress shoes on the wooden floor. Expectedly or unexpectedly, the jar had actually fallen this time and had broke; the glass shattered in large fragments, so that didn't have to worry, but the worrying factor was that the semen was now spreading a generous amount across the dark wooden floor, giving off a whiff of that maple smell.

All three of the men's jaws were dropped to the floor. It shook the fuck outta those politicians of what had happened now. What had happened now was very crucial because the crash of the glass jar hitting on to the floor could set all of the men on fire from the media grilling them. As Justin's mind has cooled down, he got up walked over to the door of his office and took a peep outside to see if anyone was out in the hall that might have heard the crash, then carefully closed it.

Just as he turned around and was about the confront both his political opponent and his boyfriend for the shit that just happened, Macron was there and pinned him to his door.

"Babe, we can't do this now, I uh.. — Scheer is over there... watching..."

"Yeah I know, but you promised me that you'll share some with me ,"

"Well I did promise that," Justin replied nervously only to have Emmanuel bend down on his knees and then see the horrific sight right across the room. Well, the Prime Minister couldn't really make up on what Scheer was actually doing but you could tell, he was trying to lick the syrup off of the floor.

"Gross," Trudeau thought as he thrown his eyes below, looking at his boyfriend on his knees, fiddling with his belt. The French turned his head to above him, peering into the Canadian's eyes. A few ten seconds had passed by.

Justin then sighed and surrendered, "Fine, you can continue," with that said, a smile or more like a giddy smile had appeared on Emmanuel's face as he went back to trying to unbuckle his boyfriend's belt. 

Justin let out another sigh following, "Let me handle it," as he tried to open his belt himself but then failed to as well.

"Fuck it," Justin said in haste then went to unzip his fly, and rummaged through his pants to get it out.

*Whack*

"Ow," Macron exclaimed.

"Oh my god, sorry my love —" Justin responded back and proceeded to bend over to check over his boyfriend, but Emmanuel protested, reaching his hands on his lover's face then saying, "No, it's fine my love," attached with the friggin smile — and then proceeded to blow Justin's dick.

You could hear the slurping from across the room. It was slightly disturbing to the fact that Emmanuel's doing it sloppily, but it was also disturbing to another man in the same room: Mr. Scheer.

Scheer's face got redder and redder, red as the balloon can be, with his thoughts squirming up in his mushed brain from licking of the cold semen off the wooden floor. He couldn't tell if he was jealous of the man that was getting blown it was jealous of the man blowing that man. But it was hideous and he was fuming.

Andrew finally broke out of his spiralling cage of envy and bolted to the other side of the room. It was too late for the couple to take notice as he shoved Emmanuel out if the way, almost getting Justin's dick cut off from the French's teeth.

The Prime Minister was shocked during the next few seconds as the French President hit the floor and still hasn't recovered from the push. He had his tongue smearing all over his dick.

It was a terrifying sight. Andrew was on his knees sucking dick.

Justin was breathing quickly in-and-out as he looked down then cried,"MANU HELP I'M GETTING FUCKING MOLESTED!" which Emmanuel then replied (not verbally) as he grasped on to a leg of a chair and swung the entire chair as a baseball bat at Andrew. Luckily for Andrew or unluckily for Justin, Andrew managed to deflect the attack with a tall blue milk carton brought out of nowhere. It was a strong milk carton.

"Can you cut the shit out?" Andrew exclaimed in rage as he turned to Emmanuel. "Why should I? You're raping my boyfriend." Emmanuel replied furiously then proceeded to take another strike at Andrew, this time missing and hitting the door that Justin was pinned on. Justin was practically crying at this point.

"Stop," Emmanuel implored as he raised his chair again with both hands above his head, eyeing Scheer. Emmanuel was sort of cringing in disgust as his eyes targeted the man before himself. "Shut up, you can't even suck dick properly; all I could hear was slurping for twenty minutes across the room and you call him your 'boyfriend'?" Scheer said in defense, but Macron quickly replied, "But you claim to be his opponent, his opposition. I thought you loathed him despite your obsession? Why are you sucking his dick?" to which Justin quickly turned his face to the side, away from any of the men. Emmanuel then took note of what he said and regretted it.

Scheer then stood up like a gopher coming out of its hole and turned around inhumanely and first hesitated with a few inhales in his mouth then regurgitated, "Look, first of all I don't want some French twink trying to lecture me on not to suck on who's dick — and I am not obsessed with your 'boyfriend' and second of all, I do not loathe him, I just don't like his policies —"

"Then why were you sucking his dick?" Emmanuel asked as he lowered the chair down, holding it upside down with one leg. He still eyed Andrew.

Andrew hesitated and wished he had his trusty glass of water whhe uses to lubricate his throat when pathetically facing the simplest of questions. He took a breath and still with hesitation said, "No, the real question here is why were you sucking his dick? No, why are you here? How the fuck did you get here? This is an actual question,"

"No wait, you can't charge me with that, you were sucking his dick too!"

"I was investigating on what the Prime Minister was hiding from his citizens —"

"— you were sucking his dick without consent that's rape —"

" — I was trying to find out that the Prime Minister is hiding the only maple syrup production in Canada at the moment in his —"

*Knock* *Knock*

Everyone froze at the moment. It felt like everything has ended here. Everything. It felt like one wrong move would be literally cutting the rope when hiking on a cliff because they were all using that rope to climb that cliff. With eye-contact, Justin instructed Emmanuel to move to one side of the room and Andrew to the other (for obvious reasons). Emmanuel positioned the chair down with no resulting sound from the wooden floor before he scurried to the corner which he was told to hide. Andrew did the same as Justin struggled to get his dick in pants because he was still hard, and his belt was tight as fuck so the only option was to use the fly.

With the amount of struggling passing by, Mr. Scheer had a different set of thought going through his head, he got out of his hiding and walked straight to the door; just as he did that Emmanuel too got out of his hiding, picking up the chair and marched towards the door, mirroring Scheer. Justin was in panic as he tried to the two of the men to get back to their hiding places.. the picture looked bad to see three men arguing over opening a door, especially with one of the man's dick out.

After the cost of arguing, Scheer grasped the handle as Justin grasped onto his hand to not open it just yet.

"Andrew, are you crazy?!" Justin quietly protested at his opponent.

"Well Mr. Trudeau, I think it's time for you to let Canadians know what you're hiding — where you've been keeping the maple syrup," replied Scheer. Emmanuel finally got back to reality and threw the chair and started pulling Andrew's hand. It made a loud crash which has already made obvious of that something is going on.

"Mr. Scheer, do you realize that this could potentially put all of us in a scandal that we do not want to answer about?" Justin said as he tried to reason with Scheer but to was too late when he heard the doorknob clicking as it rotated. Emmanuel quickly grabbed the chair and positioned himself as a baseball batter. Justin placed himself in front of the door, trying to block Andrew from burging out yet that plan was completely flawed because the door swung outwards — not inwardly into the room.

Justin fell on his back onto the carpeted floors of the hallway with Andrew falling face-forward onto him. He could feel his dick on the cloth of his pants. Emmanuel then came burging out of the room, holding the chair above his head, read to attack but then froze.

All three of the men had there faces pointing at on other man that caused this ruckus of a screen — the foreign affairs minister — Francois-Phillippe Champagne.

He was a short man indeed, with striking silver hair and not a bad face..

"I.." Champagne blurted, "I just came here to deliver a few files to Prime Minister Trudeau.." he said with the tone that he has denial of what he has witnessed.

Andrew Scheer then slowly rose from Justin's embrace, facing his eyes down, trying to avoid eye- contact. Justin followed to rise up as well. The very present dick was out and when he realized it, he immediately covered it with his hands. You could tell that Champagne was sort of blushing but was still in denial of the situation.

The two men exchanged files with eachother as Phillippe slightly eyed Macron, still holding the chair. Justin turned his head to Emmanuel. He gained notice and threw the chair back in the room. It wasn't the best idea but it was better than holding the chair as an armed weapon.

Everything was going "normal" until it was just this sudden, when the entire hallway and room started falling, it felt like everything was falling, or was it? What the heck was going on? They all thought as they saw eachother and everything else levitate as if they were in a falling elevator.

It was not long until a big flash of white followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be the three chapters I'll be posting on here (today) so once I post like 4 and 5 on Wattpad, I'll eventually post it on here as well.  
> Thank you for reading this chapter of the fic and I hop y'all survived it. Please feel free to comment about what you think of it and thank you <3


	4. Wait, where are we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt like writing today just as posted yesterday so yea here's chapter 4 :P  
> W O R M H O L E S  
> Also it's kinda JT x FP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just decided to get my phone out and liek.. write :)  
> This chapter is just fluff I guess between JT and Phillippe because I kinda ship them..  
> I'm also annoyed as fuck by P.P.  
> My proofreading abilities become 1000x when I hit "post"  
> I hope y'all like reading it
> 
> PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR MY GRAMMAR ADHK:LKJHIFIJOK

It was just very large flash of light after seeing everyone and everything levitate. No one knew where it came from, nor how it started. A subtle ringing in the ear was then followed. It wasn't the type of loudass, slender man type of ringing in the ear, the one that sounds like a legitimate threat; it can be described more like the friction between the rails when a subway is departing from a station — yes it sounded more like a departure rather than a threatening creature emitting that noise.

Justin felt like he was motionless in the air, as if he were in some kind of white void but that then soon came to an end when the flash had finally faded in almost an instant. He blinked for a few times to see if he was dreaming or not, only to realize the blue sky set above him. Justin's eyes grew wider, realizing that he's still falling and then was the hit with the ground and the familiar texture of sand.

The Prime Minister sat up and stared blankly of his surroundings. He was apparently on a shore of some beach, with the sand being a bone color pale and the ocean plagued an oil black. The only thing that was more or less off putting was the strangely vibrant blue sky.

He stood up and ruffled his hair and the back of his suit to get the sand out. The hair had easily gotten the sand out but the back of his suit was caked with the sand. Justin took the decision to take off the suit and just have his dress shirt and tie on as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt — one of his signature styles. He still took note of the very present dick thing he had on his very crotch, which has now become flaccid.

Justin once again tried to tuck it in his pants and zip up his fly so he can get going, but again failed — probably because it was too big. He was stuck in the position with his dong out in the open — which in anyway is not a good thing.

The only other way he can think of getting it back in was cutting his belt open. He scanned around to look for something sharp. Luckily he spotted one of those sharp shards of glass from his broken coom jar. It layed on the bone white sand next to a large dark gray rock. Justin walked over to the rock to retrieve the shard of glass.

As he bent over to get it, he noticed something or someone on the other side of the rock. Trudeau then walked over to that side to find Minister Champagne sitting down with his knees to his chin. He was not wearing his suit and pants — he had a white dress instead. It looked more like an anime schoolgirl outfit, like one of them sailor outfits but completely white. He also took note of the skirt being sort of long, up to Champagne's knees but he wouldn't blame him because Trudeau knows that Phillippe is quite short compared to him.

The only thing left from what he was originally wearing was his dress shoes and the plain white socks. The minister then rose his head up to the Prime Minister as he takes notice of his presence.

"Minister Champagne, what are doing here?" asked Trudeau.

"I was about to ask the same about you, Prime Minister Trudeau," he replied.

Justin took a few steps to look around the perimeter, but not far from Philippe. He then spoke, "Where.. actually are we?" then he turned his face to Philippe and asked, "and if you don't mind, where's your suit and pants — where did you get that dress?"

The foreign affairs minister then stood up and said, "My suit and pants were all wet and covered with sand," he then walked over to the other side of the rock, the opposite side of where Justin found the shard and continued on, "So I found this rock with some two dresses laying on it. They were both dry but it's better than wearing wet clothes covered in sand and having chilly wind creeping on your back,"

Justin walked over to where Champagne was showing where he had found the clothes. There was only one dress left, lying on the rock. It looked like it was left there, to dry by someone — either for them or someone else's. Considering the fact that Justin still had the situation of the exposure of a certain part of himself, Justin quickly used the shard to finally cut through that troublesome belt. He threw the belt like it were some snake onto the sand, then rushed to the remaining dress that was drying on the rock.

Phillippe turned his head around when noticing that Trudeau was about to change his clothes. He blushed a bit again in denial.

It didn't take long for Trudeau to get his clothes changed, because he was done shortly as he threw his former sandy-ish clothes on the ground, the same way as he did to his belt.

"You can look now," Trudeau assured. Phillippe slowly turned his face towards the Prime Minister, trying to avoid blushing. He was wearing a very identical dress as him, but with the skirt being shorter and not the skirt and the ribbon being a very light pastel pink. He also took note of the signature socks of the Prime Minister, accompanied with the dress shoes. They were also in a similar colour of pink as well.

Justin then turned his head towards the land to study where they actually are. It's for sure that they were not in Canada but they were in some country. All he could see where more of those large dark gray rocks, but as you gaze your view further, they become more and more sharp and jagged, rather than the smooth rock originally found.

Justin sighed and moved on, into the land as he clutched onto the shard. He found a pocket with the skirt so he decided to place the glass shard in but resisted because he realized that the shard was too sharp, and can cut the skirt or himself.

He went back to the pile of clothes he once wore and pulled out his tie, which he wrapped his shard around before putting it in the pocket.

The prime minister then moved on inwardly into the land, the other minister following him. They were both quite during the walk in the land, with more and more rocks appearing and each of them losing their flat original slanted shape, instead replaced with being more and more thin and sharp. At some point, they were literally walking in a forest of those jagged rocks, not even knowing if they're going to get anywhere.

It was until when Phillippe abruptly stopped walking and stood, crossing his arms looking to the ground.

There was less sand and it became more and more grayish, losing the pale-ness but still keeping its bone colour. He also took not of the sky turning more and more grayish from its counterpart blue colour. Justin was still walking but after a meter or two, he stopped and turned his back around, looking at Phillippe.

"You coming?" Trudeau asked.

François looked down to the floor, this time clutching himself. He then spoke, "Justin.. where are we?" He then looked up at the man before him, "How did we even get here? Do you even know where we're going?" He said in a tone of haste and regret, then realizing that he might have spoken rudely at the man in front of him. Phillippe then inhaled a breath before embracing himself even more, shivering. It took him long to realize that he was cold.

"Shit, I should have brought my coat along with me," Justin said in a tone of regret because he forgot to. He walked over to Champagne like a worrying parent and then embraced the shorter man.

The minister had a flushed face as he felt the warmth from the taller man hugged him. It was embarrassing a bit to have someone younger than him to comfort him — though he's only like two years older than Trudeau — but it was still embarrassing.

The two then continued to walk down the path of the jagged rocks as Justin embraced Phillippe with one arm to reassure him that he's there. The pointy forest of sharp rocks slowly started to merge with eachother, every metre they go, sort of resembling a wall of cheese but the holes looking more crooked then ever.

They walked through the path until they both approached a sort of structure at the end with an opening, where Justin stopped walking. He let go of François and took a good look at the opening. It was dark from François' perspective but there was a reason why they were stopping here, he thought.

Justin then turned his face to Phillippe and said, "Apparently Emmanuel forgot to close the drawer.. the drawer where he popped out of," and sighed.

"Wait, how's that supposed to relate with the overall situation?" Phillippe asked as he became perplexed.

"He came out of a drawer," Justin repeated. "He came out of the drawer and didn't close it and then that's how the wormhole had expanded.. and put us in this current situation," Justin then sighed again in regret, putting a hand on his face as he crossed the other one.

Justin then fixed his hair a bit and crossed his hands. He then turned to Phillippe and asked, "Do you remember when I said that Macron will visit me at times?"

A few seconds passed by and he responded, "Yes, yes I do remember.. I haven't told anyone about the visitings if you're asking about that,"

"I'm not asking about that," Justin replied. "I just gave you the answer to your previous question,"

A few seconds of silence passed by.

"It was wormholes?"

"Yes and apparently the one in my drawer has expanded.. and I think it might have ripped because of it being open.. which explained the flash." Justin then looked forward into the opening of the structure and said, "We're here because I think that there might be wormhole in this opening, so we can try to get back home at least.."

He then turned to Phillippe and politely asked, "Are you ready?" to which Philippe replied with a nod, slightly blushing again. The two men embraced eachother before approaching into the opening; as they walked through it felt empty, yet they felt like they were sort of being shubbed by the non-existent walls. It was just blackness when walking through the corridor. Nothing but a void.

It wasn't long until office lights and ceilings started appearing as they further walked out of the corridor, finding themselves at the end of it, walking into an office like setting.

Justin scanned around the setting of the place that they appeared to land in. There was also a loud clicking sound — the sound of a mouse clicking — and the violent smashing of keys on a keyboard.

Well someone was here, on a computer, probably violently tweeting shit.

Justin once again let go of Phillippe to go and investigate who it was, walking towards the sound of the clicking. François couldn't help but follow as he eyed the movement of Justin's skirt (intense blushing).

Justin stopped at one of the cubicles, just to find Pierre Poilievre, the Pierre Poilievre, Member of Parliament from 4chan. Phillippe crashed into Justin's back, sort of stepping him into the cubicle.

"You know.. it's rude to not knock?" the M.P. said in a mocking tone and a damn smirk on his face, swinging his chair to face the men in skirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are beautiful, thank you for reading uwu  
> Please tell me about how you feel about this chapter.. like please ;-; you'll make me happy  
> Thank you anyways asdfgh love you <3


	5. Pierre and Pigeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by "Pigeon Pierre" trending on the other day on twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no time to post shit yet I write a lot.
> 
> This chapter is more like a joke lol

"Peepee," Justin sighed as he rolled his eyes, "you're here."

"Of course I am!" replied Pierre, "and so are you," he chuckled again. P.P. then spun himself in his office chair to his desk and shifted towards his drawer, pulling out a jar of strawberry jam then turning his chair back and swiftly rolling towards Trudeau.

As he unscrewed the tin cap of the American imported strawberry jam, he leaned a bit to his left and took a glance at Trudeau's side only to see the shorter man grasping onto Trudeau. 

"So," Peepee said again, "why'd you come here?" the lid finally plucked out and what the incel only could do was throw the lid out of the window, breaking the glass and probably landing on a pigeon. Poilievre eyed Trudeau then continued, "did you come here to introduce you third boyfriend?"

"Absolutely not, this is the Minister of Foreign Affairs, François-Phillipe Champagne, he has no relationship like that what-so-ever with me," Justin spoke firmly as he re-established the relationship.

Justin had no emotion when giving out that statement. It didn't feel like the Justin that was back in the jagged rock forest. His tone felt firm and raw yet harsh to accept; it felt like he was telling the truth.

"I came here to find Emmanuel Macron, the French President,"

"Oh," P.P. laughed like a hyena, "so it IS a boyfriend problem?" the crude laughter continued. 

Philippe gently released his grasp onto Justin, taking a step back, looking down as he hugged himself again.

At this point he became indistinguishable from a twelve-year-old. "And now this one's problem's with wormholes," he snickered.

"We all use wormholes," Justin corrected Pierre, crossing his arms and his eyes rolled again from the annoyance.

Pierre stopped laughing and fell silent for a moment as he stared at Justin. Then took a quick breath and said, "Well if you're looking for your boyfriend, I have no idea where the fuck he is, probably numming on someone else's baguette," 

Justin thought he had enough of Pierre because he knew that the conversation is literally not going to get anywhere so he gave his last eye rolled and turned around to leave the cubicle. 

"Actually," said P.P., kissing his teeth for a bit, stopping Trudeau from his departure. Trudeau didn't turn back, he just waited for an answer.

"I think he's in one of them rooms, spoon feeding himself some blueberry jam I gave him," 

Peepee took a head dive into the strawberry, greedily eating it, I guess..

Well now there's no way in asking anything from Peepee because he's busy 'eating' but now, Justin must find Emmanuel.

Justin squandered around through every room of cubicles, calling out his name in hope that he'll find his lover, but the more and more he was met with empty rooms, the more Justin got reminded on how he had left Emmanuel.

He was so reckless that he didn't realize that Phillippe wasn't even by his side anymore. That's when Justin started calling Philippe's name across the vast gray cubicles of the parliamentary office.

It came to no avail.

With the worn out Justin walked around to find two men that he's looking for twenty minutes, he grew more pessimistic to a point where he sat on the floor, outside the walls of a cubicle, curling his head into his knees and crying.

He cried until the white cloth of the skirt has now two gray blotches that are cool to the touch. However, it wasn't long to for Justin to recognize a presence that came quickly near him. The person in that presence then crouched down to Justin. Justin then rose his face out of the white cloth of his skirt, hoping that it would be Emmanuel. 

"Philippe?" Justin said in surprise and then received an embrace from the shorter man on the office floor. Justin just sat with Phillippe on his knees hugging him. They could feel the contrast between the cold tears fighting over the warmth that Phillippe is now returning to Justin. It felt a bit awkward yet a bit guilty as well. Coming to realisation, Justin too embraced the minister too.

"I'm sorry of what I've said," Justin apologized. "I realized your reaction after re-establishing our relationship and I'm sorry that you-" 

"It's fine," Philippe said in an unusually optimistic tone, pulling away from Justin and smiled like ^w^

After the releasing himself from Justin, Justin eagerly then asked, "Did you find Manu?"

Phillippe still had the grudge to not answer to Justin's question but he sighed slightly and replied, "Yes, I did find Emmanuel." and he got up grabbing on to Justin's hand, without making eye-contact and lead him through the halls of cubicles.

They were walking for some ten minutes until they both approached a door. Before Philippe could say anything prior entering into the room, Justin struggled to get the door open, trying to turn open the knob but it was locked.

"I'm afraid it's locked Prime Minister Trudeau but —"

Phillippe then curled his arms to protect himself and backed away as Justin started banging on the door with all his might. Then he finally managed to kick it down open like that Big Bird meme.

Across the room, Justin could see the poor French twink, forcibly spoon feeding himself a jar of blueberry jam. He was even crying because he doesn't even like blueberry jam. 

"Emmanuel, why are you crying?" Justin asked in confusion.

"I'm being fed blueberry jam by force," he said in response, tears still flowing from his eyes.

"YOU are the one that's feeding yourself blueberry jam,"

"I'm doing it so that the pigeons don't come in this room," Emmanuel mumbled in a tearful voice, pointing with his spoon to the window on the wall right of him.

Justin stepped in the room and leaned over his left to see what's going on in Emmanuel's right. In shock to Justin's eyes, there seems to be a dozen of pigeons, if not more, all awaiting right behind the glass of the window, some of them being bastardly enough to peck on the glass.

To Justin's horror, Emmanuel finally stopped eating at confessed, "They're after the jam, that fucking incel stole their yearly supply of jam and now they want everyone in this building to finish the jam before—" Emmanuel gasped in surprise as Justin picked him up from his chair and ran out of the room and leaving his jar, carrying him bridal style. François followed as well.

"It doesn't matter what the pigeons claim to do if you don't eat your jam," Justin said panting, "because I know for a fact that they'll break that window and burst into that room... — and I don't want that happening to you, Manu," Justin said with almost out of breath but still running. François again turned his eyes to another direction, absentmindedly while still running, probably envying Justin's affection for Emmanuel.

In any way, shape or form, Justin was right: the pigeons did manage to break through the glass with all that stubborn peaking. They flew into the room like ants coming out of an ant hill and fiercefully fluttered themselves to the direction of the three men. The thought of it was very absurd.

As the passed through corridor after corridor of cubicle, Justin's arms were getting tired from holding Emmanuel while running — he felt like he should give up — but then an idea then came to Justin's mind and he turned as he tried to find the mischievous M.P.'s room of Pierre Poilievre. Champagne was alerted by the sudden change of Justin's path but still followed. 

When they finally reached the entrance to Peepee's office, Justin stood with Champagne, a little passed away from the entrance of the incel's cubicle and had finally put Emmanuel down, waiting for the flock of birds to come. 

It was not long because those birds could smell the scent of that strawberry jam that P.P. was digging into — which they have all made a sharp turn, into the cubicle.

"OH MY GOD, GET OUT OF MY ROOM IM PLA—" the man child of a 12 year old M.P. started screaming before being engulfed by the swarm of pigeons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this horrendous chapter, you wonderful people :)  
> Please comment if I've traumatized you. Thank you <3


	6. Belonging to someone else.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillippe is jelly of Justin's BF but he can't say shit. Manu's a tsundere.   
> JT and Manu go on a date :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I ironically go off topic of the main plot line (as if there's any plot line to begin with) and like write slice of life I guess..  
> Please enjoy lol

"Phew," Justin said in relief and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. 

"Glad we got out of the building before all of that — it could have turned into a mess," he said, turning his head to Emmanuel.

Emmanuel nervously chuckled and said, "I know," as he glanced at his boyfriend, "neither of us would like to end up like that man-child," they were both holding hands as they were all walking outside of the office building. It was a cloudy evening with the clouds gently feathering the gray blue colour on to the concrete ground.

All three of the men had successfully managed to escape the building just in time, before the pigeons would have gotten to them. Pierre was already doomed from the start; he was eating their jar of jam like a lady (DISCUSTANG) and now he's being turned into a pigeon.

[Flashback to just right before Justin and the others left the building]

"NO! NO!" Poilievre shouted at the pigeons as they were pecking into him like a blanket of thousand wasps. He was on the floor trying to kick the pigeons to get off him but he had obviously failed. 

The incel kept yelling, "No!" and, "GeT oFf Me!" until he really started pussying-out, pleading to the very man that he hated to the very gut. Trudeau, Macron and Champagne only peered through the door, they weren't doing much to be honest. Only what was left of Pierre were now muffled screams of the 12 year old man-child of an M.P.

The nasty Tory was thrown on the floor and was now turned into a cocoon of pigeons as he wiggled on the cold office floor like a feathery maggot.

And that was the signal for Justin to get the fuck outta there. 

[Flashback ends.]

The three men were out walking in the unusually lonely streets, with Justin and Macron holding hands as they walked at front and Champagne following from behind, carrying some files. 

Though, the conversation between the Prime Minister and President was practically not romantic at all in anyway, the sight of them holding hands and giving eachother slight glances were harmless actually. Though again, the Minister did mind it.

He was older than both of the men who walked in front of him and arguably the shortest out of all of them. Looking down onto the ground, as they walked. He wished he were in the position of the other man, not politically, but relationship-wise.   
He knew about the relationship between Justin and Emmanuel and if he wanted — he could open his mouth — yet he couldn't, he couldn't go against Justin, no he couldn't.

"No one's around, probably you're right about the portal.. I shouldn't have left it open.." the French said in a tone of realisation then he came to a sudden stop. 

"Hey now.. it's ok, I just need to now address the situation I guess in the morning.. and.." Justin tried to say in reassurance, putting his arms around Emmanuel. But Emmanuel then bursted out, "We both fucked up, Justin!" then turned his head to face his lover, "We both.. and it's all my fault—" and started crying. Justin embraced Emmanuel, hugging him as he cried on his shoulder.

François just stood there, holding the files as he watched the French President cry. It was not a pleasant sight, not that he'd feel bad for him but he didn't want to see the man whining over a stupid thing that was his fault.

"Prime Minister," François finally spoke out. Justin turned his head to look at the Minister who was a few meters adjacent to them. 

The sight honestly reminded him a lot of when Justin had confronted him on the island, with the same kind of care, the same care that he's now giving Emmanuel. That is the same care that he gave when confronted with Justin back in the cubicle office when searching for that whining man. 

Very small seeps of bile have entered in Champagne's mouth, wanting to spit on to Emmanuel yet he strongly resisted his emotions.

"Minister Champagne?" Justin spoke as he loss his patience in the silence. Philippe immediately snapped out of his zoning out of bitterness. "You wanted to say something?" Justin asked gently, still embracing his lover in his shoulder.

"I.. — I wanted to ask that I may leave.." he responded out of a sudden bounce to reality, then continued on to say, "the office is near here and.. I need to drop these files before I head home," he said out of hesitance, clutching the files absentmindedly.

"Sure.." Justin said as his thought train captured the position that the Minister was in, "I'll see you in the morning," he said plastering a smile on his face. It was fake but Champagne played along with it and smiled as he waved 'bye' to Justin and walked out of the scene. Justin too waved back.

The prime minister then took a look back at his boyfriend that still has his head buried in his shoulder. He sighed as he gently stroked his lover's hair, minding the bald spots. "Well, Manu at least has stopped crying," he thought to himself.

The president inhaled deeply and whispered out, "This cloth," and then clutched on to the creamy light pink dress that Justin was still wearing.

Macron finally had a strong exhale as he finally released himself from Justin's shoulder (still in Justin's embrace) and nitpicked, "Is has the scent of that man." His eyes adverting, not making eye-contact with Justin.

"Well it is a soft kind of fabric, anyone would want to touch it," Justin replied as he kinda gave Emmanuel a cheeky smirk, teasing him.

Obviously, Emmanuel couldn't resist when Justin is eyeing him and had to glance back at his blue eyes and once again made eye-contact with Justin.

It only lasted for a few seconds though because Emmanuel quickly pulled away from Justin's arms. He was again in that adverted posture of his, when facing away in embarassment and some resentment and asked "He was eyeing at me, wasn't he?" 

"Wasn't he, Justin?" now facing his lover.

"Oh, Emmanuel, I knew you had a thing when someone is looking at you, even if you don't see them, you always know if their eyes are on you," Justin said in a teasing tone, chuckling a bit and Emmanuel reflected back in embarassment, again adverting his eyes away.

*!!*

Emmanuel was slightly startled when Justin put his hand on his cheek, making him blush.

"I know that Manu.. I read him as you were crying.... I know how he felt..." Justin said timidly then wondering in his thoughts, replaying the scene in his mind. Seeing François standing before him, clutching onto his files, clutching onto himself, his feelings .of envy. 

"And you didn't do anything?"

The flashback cut before his eyes and he came back to reality. Emmanuel backed away, looking pissed off.

"Well that's an absurd question, Manu," Justin said before quickly pressing his lips on the other man. The two of them had their mouths entwined together for a moment until Emmanuel pulled out and said, "But.. couldn't you see that he was.. jealous? Jealous of me perhaps?" and then cringed at the question he just asked.

"Well I can't do anything about that — I guess he wishes to be you," Justin replied with a smile.

"Everyone wishes to be me.. — they want you," the President said in a tone of jealousy but was then cut off by the Prime Minister who stole a kiss from him. The couple had sided their gaze from eachother by the silly argument over a silly matter.

Justin then walked forward without notice which turned Emmanuel's gaze back at him and then turned his head over to his French counterpart saying, "Come on, Manu. We should get moving." smiling softly again. "It's getting cold out here and it's running late."

Emmanuel studied for a second of how delicately the white beaming of the street lights feathered on Justin's white shirt which was being slightly disturbed by the wind,making it wavedr. It shined bright as the white faded into the cool, lavender tones of shadow. The man in the suit then caught up with the taller man in the dress, putting an arm around Justin's back as they walked into the concrete sidewalk.

For your information, the two men were walking in the streets of Ottawa, roughly two hours before midnight. The street was oddly lonely, with some cars placed in rather odd places — which was probably due to the wormhole rip caused by Emmanuel and gave a guilt trip per sight. 

They finally approached a café, it looked more like a café-bar but most importantly it looked open and warm for the most part.

"See, I guess not everything has been affected by the rip," Justin said optimistically, trying to cheer his boyfriend up. He then smiled at Emmanuel and went it with him in the café. The bartender was first slightly shocked at first to see the French President enter the café with the Prime Minister of Canada who's wearing a pink dress with a skirt that short but he didn't say anything as they ordered a table for two and sat. 

"So, is this a date?" Emmanuel said with a smirk as a pulled the chair in to sit.

"You can say that," Justin replied with the same smirk, sitting with one leg on top of the other — giving the chance for his boyfriend to slightly peek through the glass table, trying to get a glimpse of his boxers.

The men only had small talk when waiting for their food to arrive — and by food I mean cake. Emmanuel was laid back into the chair, relaxing and enjoying the "view" of Justin's lower half while Justin gave him a teasing look.

Two small cakes were placed on the glass table, a strawberry cheesecake topped with strawberries and a heart shaped one. The bartender left, going back to cleaning a few glasses.

Out of exhaustion, Emmanuel pulled forward to dig his spoon into the cake and Justin let his leg down but still sat feminine with his knees both turned to the side, closed together.

"I'm surprised that you picked strawberry out of all of them," said Justin.

"Why would you think of that?" Emmanuel asked as he took the spoon of cake in his mouth.

"I mean.. I thought you liked blueberry?"

"Oh, it's because of the jam.." and then the French had a slight face palm and Justin giggled a bit as he took his spoon in his mouth.

"I fucking hate blueberry,"

"But your favourite colour is blue —"

"Blueberries are a scam, they appear blue but when you cut them, they're green, and if you mash them, they're purple," Emmanuel replied in a resentful tone (more of a tsundere).

As the atmosphere calmed down, the two men are their cake in a fashion — a kind of fashion — a flirty one — the poor bartender could only blink a few times to check if he's not asleep. Nope, he's awake. Welcome to reality.

As Justin had finished the last spoon of his dish (which was mostly pink icing) he scanned the café real nicely and managed to spot a sign saying "ROOMS AVAILABLE". Justin then called the bartender and asked for a room.. so they could stay for the night.

"A room.. that's right?"

"Yeah,"

"For one?"

"For two,"

"And two beds..?"

"Nope, just one,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all thank you for surviving this chapter because in these two chapters, I didn't feel like to add craziness but I'll warn y'all for future chapters >:3
> 
> Thank you for reading anyways and please comment (´・ω・`)


	7. French Fries and Maple Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all, I'm yo asshole writer that leaves finished chapters in my notes app for weeks ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This is an 18+ chapter, if y'all are not 18+, GTFO!!!
> 
> Y'all are warned lol  
> Idk if there's non con elements.

The French President whipped out of his chair, stretching his back just before giving a hand to his "lady" on the other side. The bartender just watched (even if it's rude to stare) as Macron was squeezing his hand all over the Prime Minister's back, glance-fully almost touching his ass. 

All what the bartender could do at least was collect the money as he watched the two men walk through into the dimly lit hallway to where the rooms are. As they approached to their room, Justin twirled the keys a bit on his finger before opening the door as Emmanuel stood behind.

Upon just getting it unlocked and turning the knob, Emmanuel couldn't help himself and just forced himself onto Justin — turning the Prime Minister's head towards him at had his tongue in his mouth, they are more than kissing by this point.

The French managed to push the Canadian in to the room, still grabbing on to him firmly. He had his hands on his hair with the other up the man's skirt and the teeth and tongues continued to clash. 

As they parted their lips away, Justin fell back on the bed that was behind him and Emmanuel closed the door, making sure it was locked. The bed was not too comfy but it wasn't that uncomfortable either. It was sort of cheap but okay for them to have sex on.. as long as they aren't too hard on it.

Emmanuel turned around and took his coat off as he walked towards the bed. Justin sat and submissively stared at his boyfriend, biting his lip and shifted his feet on the bed which raised his skirt in return, showing off his boxers that now appear to be a pink-lavender colour.

The man with now a dress shirt and tie jumped on to the man wearing the dress. The French was on all fours on top of the Canadian, pinning the man down on the bed like a predator to its prey.

Their eyes met, both blue but contrasting energies: Emmanuel as the dominant and Justin as the submissive. It first started with slight biting on eachother's lips while kissing, sharing the saliva as their tongues and teeth clashing again. 

The younger man then slightly rose from the older man's mouth to have a breath. He once again dove back into the skin of the man below him, smearing his lips as he drove himself down to Justin's neck. Justin quivered and moaned a bit each nibble he took on his soft skin. The French then slid his nose down into the Canadian's chest, pressing his head into the tender light pink cloth as if Justin had breasts. The dress was soft and the body was warm with a beating heart. The Prime Minister kindly brushed the President's hair like a kitten purring. 

It was shortly then, the French continued to go downwards through Justin's body until he reached his pelvis. Emmanuel was almost off the bed, right at the edge, so quickly pulled himself back into the bed, shifting closer to Justin on his knees. Macron stared into Trudeau's eyes with a predatory gaze while he clasped both of his hands on the Canadian's knees, pressing them together at first and giving Justin an uncomfortable moan.

Still staring, he creepily parted Trudeau's knees apart and slowly leered his head into the man's skirt.

"Wait," Justin said in hesitation and sweat.

Emmanuel quickly lifted himself up as the white cloth of Justin's skirt slapped against his pointy-ass nose while doing so. "Yes, my dear?" still with that predatory gaze, "Is there anything wrong?"

"We.." Justin hesitated as he sat up on the bed, "We still have our shoes on.. in the bed.." 

Emmanuel tried on hold in his laugh at the ridiculous reasoning of why his boyfriend wanted to stop him from going, but it still came out, only as a smile. "Justin.." he said, still trying to hold in the laugh, eyeing away from the man in front, "we haven't event gotten undressed," and he finally let out a giggle, "don't tell me that we can't wear our socks will be off too —" and he finally let himself laugh.

The Prime Minister had his cheeks flushed in a reddish-pink and finally got up and sat on his knees, crossing his arms as he said in embarrassment, "The socks stay,"

"Of course,"

"Especially mine," Justin blushed and averted his eyes.

His boyfriend pecked a short kiss on his lips and bit it for a second then proceeded to get himself undressed and his boyfriend as well. Like Justin requested, his socks did stay on the entire process and his lavish body glistened in the bedroom light as the pink patterned socks complimented the Canadian.

He looked cute.

He really looked cute.

Too cute.

The French really wanted to ruin him.

Gracefully, the French dove into the PM, licking that length. Justin felt the warm tongue slithering around it soaking it wet while the pre-cum spouting out a bit made it sticky. It was a mixture of his own bitter spit and sweetness from his lover for the other man.

Justin gaped his mouth out and let out a very slight moan. With that put in to place, Emmanuel briefly stopped and lifted himself once more. He had his eyes locked with Justin for a few mom as he watched the older man breathe from the exhaustion. His cheeks were red and hair sort of messy — but not too messy yet.

"Turn around.. on all fours," the President demanded. It took Justin to come back to his senses but then followed his orders as he flipped over on the bed and placed himself on all fours, as said.

As Emmanuel positioned himself before entering, Justin turned his head around and asked, "Manu.. are you going to prep me..?"

"I forgot to bring the lube.. I'm sure you'll be fine,"

"... Yeah ok.."

And then Emmanuel finally thought that he's was ready, Justin really had to interrupt, "Wait! Wait!"

Macron stopped again and sighed, "What is it now, Justin?"

"You didn't bring.. condoms."

"..."

"..."

"It's not like you're going to get pregnant or anything," the French joked.

"I mean.. you can go in.." Justin sighed as he lowered his head, "but, technically, I can—" he was then cut the by a surprise of his counterpart making the first thrust into Justin.

The French let out a loud groan of relief and arched his back a bit before asking Justin what the fuck the Canadian was trying to explain because he was so rude to cut him off. 

"So.. what was that?" he said as he slowly thrusted, "you can get pregnant or not?"

Tears had been already streaming from Justin's blue eyes since they started fucking. It took Justin some time but he eventually gave in to feel the his boyfriend's dick slamming up against his walls. "I.." he panted, "I said I can get pregnant."

Emmanuel turned cold and pulled out of his boyfriend. "Then I wish I should have brought condoms.." 

"No, no, no!" Justin turned himself around sat up, gently placing his hands onto Manu. "I don't mind if you.." 

"Yeah.." Emmanuel shyly sided his eyes before hitting Justin with a kiss on his lips. They kissed for a short moment. Justin then threw himself back onto the bed, readjusting himself and opening his legs for his lover. It was like he was dominating now.

Emmanuel slides in his boyfriend and asked again, "You won't mind if I fuck you?" 

"I mean.. as long as you pull out I guess?"

Emmanuel sighed as he let the French fry of a penis he had, slither in-and-out of the Prime Minister of Canada. They were both moaning — Justin a little more loudly and Emmanuel more like a girl. 

It wasn't long before the Canadian had maple syrup spread all across his stomach and dripping down to his pelvis. It was a sight for his boyfriend to admire before he too, emptied himself into his lover. Macron tried to moan in relaxation as Justin braced him — feeling the amount of cum getting pumped inside of him. It felt like an eternity for those moments of both of the leaders ejaculating.

When the French was finally finished, he pulled out and took a few moments of breath.

He bent down to his boyfriend's stomach and slithered his tongue to collect the still warm bronze-ish semen that coated Justin's stomach. Justin ran his fingers across his boyfriend's hair as Emmanuel purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my fanfic after weeks of not posting ;w;  
> Please tell me how y'all feel of this chapter and I'm open for critique! Thank you :D  
> I love you all !! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Lol thank for reading this mess of a fic and the first chapter. I'll be posting more and on wattpad before I post the fic on here and lol please feel free to tell me about your opinions on this fic, I'd really like to know :)  
> Anyway thank you for reading <3
> 
> EDIT: I've deleted my wattpad because no one says shit


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